Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1887-02-12

passing through the kitchen, found
George Raymond, her fathers hired
man, or, rather, hired boy, sitting alb
stractedly by the table. A closed
book, the Bible, lay on it. Gertrude
glanced at it, and him. She was
pretty, kind-hearted young girl
"Dont you want a book to read,
George?" she said. "Allie has nice
Sunday-school book, and she has gone
over to her mission-school, and isn't
reading it.
George looked up doubtfully. He
had high, white forehead, and large,
serious blue es.
lis it true story" siad he.
Gertrude laughed.
"Whv, don't know. / don't sup
pose it is exactly. Few stories are ex.
actly true"
Il guess I don't want it then. My
own Sunday-school book wasn't"
"Why, George Raymond, what an
idea! OF course you don't expect
story to be true-that is, just true.
Why, people wouldn't write them So"
Il don't care." said George, stoutly,
IL don't want to read story that isn't
true. don't like it. The Bibles true,
anyhow. I'm going to stick to that, il
l can't find anything else"
Gertrude laughed again at Georges
rather equivocal speech.
well, you're safe about the Bible, ]
guess" said she.
She went in and told her mother
about George and his true story. The
boy had been in the family only about
II week then, and they were just getting
an insight into his character None OF
them could have told just how it came
to pass, but in the course of n few
months they had nickname for him
Exact Truth" OF course, the boy
never was addressed in that way, but
it was Where is Exact Truth ?" "Tell
Exact Truth to put in the horses
among the family.
All of them were sincerely good peo-
pie, and had profound respect and
love for truth; but there was some
thing in Georges firm adherence to
it which was certain y so unusual rs to
be almost amusing. Not one book
would he look at which was not pro-
ncunced true by reliable judges. This
was undoubtedly much to the boys
benefit, for thus he con ned himself to
very solid and select course of read
ing, including mostly history and the
Bible, and some few books OF travel
Fiction he eschewed almost entirely.
A boy who would not read story be-
cause it was not true was an anomaly.
His regard for the truth served to
make him quite oblivious to everything
e.se, even to his own personal advan-
tage. A strong instance of this ap-
peared on his introduction to the Fos-
ter house. 1t transpired that he had
been employed by a gentleman in a
neighboring village, and had been dis
charged. George told the story with
out reserve.
Or. Emmons turned me off because
1 famed the horse, said he, looking
square in DR.. Fosters eyes. 81 was
careless driving down hill; didn't hold
him up"
DR.. Foster looked at him in surprise.
"How do l know that you won't lame
my horse in the same way?" he said.
perhaps SHALL" admitted George,
"but shall try not to-"
So far DR.. Foster had had no reason
to complain of his hired boys services.
He had been remarkably conscientious
and faithful about all his duties Still,
he was boy, and boy of fifteen who
loved fun and a good time just like
other boys, and there had to be little
slip occasionally.
On the first winter of Georges stay
with the Fosters there was good deal
of excellent SIX ing in the vicinity,
George had skates, and there was moth
ing he loved like skating. He could
Guido all the other boys in the neigh
borhood, and was very proud of his
accomplishment. One day, when the
skating was at its height, DIR. Foster
sent George on an errand about mile
out of the village.
"You II have to go on foot" said he,
"and don't go the hill road; 60 the
other way, that's shorter. / want you
to be on hand when 1 get back from
Keene with the horses.
"Yes, sir" said George.
He took his beloved skates with him.
There might be some little stretches of
ice on the way, and he could travel so
much faster, he reasoned.
He delivered the medicine as he had
been instructed, and started home. A,
little below the house where he had
stopped, the road separated into two.
One was the road proper to the village,
the other was longer, almost unused
route, the hill road. Just where the
road diverged, he met boy whom he
knew, who was emerging from the hill
road, his skates dangling from his arm.
"Hullo!" said the boy. "Youd bet
Ter go down this way; it's splendid
,kating."
rs it?" said George, doubtfully.
Il tell you tits. The roads one glare
Of ice all the way"
George hesitated. There was the
Doctors command. Still he had a good
argument. The reason for making it
had been that he might reach home
soon, and could he not outweigh the
extra distance by his extra speed ON
skates? What difference could it make?
Finally he started down the hill road.
His conscience was rather clamorous,
but he tried not to listen to it. The
skating was excellent. The road was
one beautiful strip of smooth ice, and
not cut at all. There had been no
teams through, probably, since the ice
had formed. There was but one house
for the distance of half mile on the
road, after George entered it. 1t was
little, implanted house, standing well
back from the road. An old man lived
there all alone. George glanced at this
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